That Empty Space
by GoWashTheLights
Summary: Jamie Forrest always came out all right when he had problems. Always upbeat, looking for the positive. Things change, however, when his friend finally passes away. With things already bad between him and Jonathan, he has no one to look for comfort.


**Author Note:** I've been on a Karl Urban kick lately (love that man) and found one of his early shows, being Shortland Street (old-school, like in the 90's). It's pretty much non-existent here in the states, but the show has me as a fan :) I like all of the characters, the situations they find themselves in - it's more realistic than some of the things we have on now. I thought it was interesting how private, yet complex the Jamie/Jonathan story arc was, and I wished they'd shown more of it. Karl should come back to the show for a bit ;)

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Shortland Street, it's characters, etc.

* * *

Chapter One

* * *

It had to be raining. Jamie stumbled from the pub around two in the morning, and incredible, painful weight in his chest. He'd finally had the decency to call in sick from work, but how had he used it? Drowning his guilt with alcohol. It felt great, too, and reality was starting to fade a little. His

friend had died just days ago, and he hadn't even _been _there. Jonathan, that stupid kid - who didn't even care about Damon - had gotten the last word. That was how Jonathan worked; he had to be the one to finish everything. A sob rose up from Jamie's throat, and he realized he couldn't

take it. He wouldn't make it until he was home, with the comfort of the sofa and a warm blanket. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he collapsed onto the pavement, feeling the most miserable he'd ever felt. He didn't even care that he was starting to get soaked, or that he hadn't eaten all day.

It didn't matter.

"Jamie?"

He almost didn't want to look up. Who wanted to be out here, anyway? With him?

"Jamie..."

He recognized the voice now. His stomach turned as his eyes moved up, and they finally settled on an unwelcome face. Jamie shook his head, looking away and wiping his eyes. "Not you," he mumbled.

"Yeah, _me,_" said Isaac, taking a seat next to him. "What happened?"

"Get away from me." Jamie sobbed, hiding his face. "I'm so angry at you!"

Isaac didn't say anything. He knew he was in trouble - beyond that - and having hurt Jamie had been enough. He never had quite gotten the chance to explain things to his ex, and now didn't seem like the time, either. Carefully, Isaac reached out to take Jamie's hand. Jamie understandingly

pulled away, so Isaac waited. He knew that if he waited, he could try again. When he did, Jamie kept his hand still. Eventually, he even wrapped his fingers in with Isaac's.

"I h-hate you," Jamie whispered.

Isaac scooted closer. He rested his head against Jamie's and sighed. "I know."

"...How could you do it? _Why _did you do it?" Jamie asked. Finally, Isaac was able to look at that face. That innocent, loving face. "Why are you here?"

Isaac shrugged. "I...was out. I saw you and couldn't help myself. I missed you, Jamie. I was a fool, you know that. I've made you so miserable."

Jamie only nodded, looking down. Isaac took comfort in the fact that they were still holding hands. He knew it wouldn't last, but he had to hold on until it was the end again. "Come on, Jamie, let's go somewhere to dry off. My place?"

Jamie turned, looking a little incredulous. "Are you serious? _Your _place? Why would you - "

"All right, all right!" Isaac sighed. "I understand - just a suggestion, mate. You'll get sick if you don't take care now, so let's go! Anywhere you want; your choice, Jamie."

Jamie was quiet for a couple of moments. Then he made a face and shook his head to himself. "Why not? They're not in..."

"Where do you want to go?"

"I suppose my place. W-Well, it's not really mine, I'm just a flatmate - "

Isaac smiled, moving to his feet. He pulled Jamie up, finding him a little unsteady. The guy could hold his alcohol, so Isaac wondered just how much he'd exactly had to drink. He wrapped an arm around Jamie's waist. "Sounds great. Will they mind?"

Jamie raised an eyebrow as they began to walk. "You're not staying the night, if that's what you mean."

Isaac couldn't help but laugh. "Just lead the way."

* * *

Talita and Sam pulled up to the house early in the morning, glad to see their house again. It's been a fantastic getaway, but not it was time to settle back into work. At the front step, Sam hesitated in opening the door.

"What?" Asked Talita.

Sam smiled, hugging her. Then he gave her a kiss and said, "You're beautiful, and I'm very lucky."

The two shared a laugh as they made their way through the front door, but ceased almost immediately. Jamie was leaving the bathroom, looking terrible. He was pale and trembling, with circled under his eyes. He barely looked at them before collapsing onto the couch.

"Jamie, what _happened?_" Talita asked, hurrying over. She noticed he'd pulled out the extra comforter. "You look..."

"Hungover?" Came the muffled reply.

"I was going to say! You look like death."

"Hm..." He groaned.

Sam had joined them, and he placed a hand over Jamie's forehead. "You're burnin' up, mate."

"Yeah, I feel that. Took some medicine."

Talita frowned. "But...why do you have a fever? If you only drank last night..."

Jamie sighed quietly. "Was out...in the rain."

The two shared an understanding look. Their friend had been at his lowest since Damon had died, and they'd been worried about leaving him alone. Sam shook his head, leaning on the back of the sofa. "Jamie, what did I tell you? _Don't _drink yourself to death! Hm?" He nudged Jamie until he

could get a small laugh out of him. "Right. Did you call in to work?"

"Not yet."

Sam nodded. "On it. Get some rest, okay?"

Jamie gave a sigh in response. Talita stood and followed her husband into the kitchen. The two were quiet for a minute, wondering what had cause Jamie to be out like that. "He must be so depressed," Talita whispered.

"What should we do? Can we even do anything?"

Talita shrugged. "I dunno. You think Jonathan has talked to him?"

"No idea. He hasn't asked me about Jamie at work. I think things have been rough between them."

"You might talk to him about it, Sam," offered Talita. Sam couldn't help but wince a little, which earned him a look. "What's that for?"

"It's just...I don't really _talk _to him about his life."

"You should. He's your friend, and he's helped us out so much. He gave _you _advice, didn't he?"

"Yeah, but Jamie always figures things out. He's smart like that. I needed him, but he doesn't need me."

Talita shook her head. "Not true, Sam. Now is the time that we help him."

Though unkeen about it, Sam didn't want to oppose his wife. He knew she was right, and made a resolution to talk to his friend. Jamie was asleep now, so the couple snuck into their room for a well-needed rest of their own.

* * *

_It's a little short, but I like it so far :) _


End file.
